As officials, lobbyists and other urbanites ply their diplomatic trade in Sorrento, they might take a moment to reflect on the communities that are affected by their discussions.

Whale hunting is extremely hard work, whether the hunters are employees on a very large ship, or aboriginal subsistence whalers who go out in the Arctic in outboard motor boats, hoping to sight and land one of the monsters from their waters. Whaling is also very dangerous work and, sometimes, men die in the attempt to land a whale.

In some communities, the meat and blubber are essential foods, and immediately divided up into equal shares according to tradition. In others, they become commodities and the products are sold as soon as possible after the vessel makes shore and the animal is processed.

For the whales of course, it's all the same, whether they are divided among members of a community or sold piecemeal. Each animal lives its life until the moment it is struck, aware of no confinement or other significant human impact. It has been completely free, feeding, sometimes migrating, and always moving with its fellow cetaceans in the same way as its ancestors did for millennia.

The human cooperation needed in order to land each whale is part of a long-standing tradition, unique in each whaling nation. This tradition is handed down to each new whaler as part of his responsibility to absorb and to participate with his fellows for as long as possible. Each whale taken is the result of human traditions.

Human social organization and cooperation is essential. The whale is remembered and cherished long after it has been consumed. Sons remember the admonitions and lessons learned from their fathers, uncles and grandfathers. Wives and daughters know their roles in the distribution and preparation of this food, and this knowledge is similarly passed down through the generations. For many whaling families, this routine, and the specific demands on each person in the community, are not only familiar, but reassuring: the world is all right because a whale has been brought in once again.

The social relationships are constantly renewed and strengthened through the acts of cooperation that the butchering and division of the products engenders. It doesn't matter whether the products are ultimately sold, given as gifts, or traded. The whale is divided up according to long standing custom and social patterns are reinforced.

These operations must be sustainable so that generations can share the same benefits as those that bless each whaling community today, whether it is Barrow, or Reykjavik, or Castries, or Wada, in the High North, or in the south Pacific. A part of sustainability, is concern for the ecosystem in which the whales live with their prey, from krill or crustaceans, to large fin fish.

Whales mean more than meat to every whaler and every whaling community. They are security, tradition, meat and money, and each new kill represents the necessity for communal knowledge of the ocean world and how one can gain sustenance from it, for both body and soul.

Those who are not whalers, who have never been and could never be, can probably never understand these life truths, nor will they wish to do so. But it should not be too much to ask that non-whalers shall one day live with and respect those who go to sea to acquire this prize. In this time of horrendous conflict among nations, small gestures such as cross-cultural tolerance and mutual respect can go a long way towards uniting humans in a world that could be characterized by peaceful co-existence. No one has an inherent right to destroy the traditions of others, and we all should remember the strength that our communities have bestowed on us, as we try to add our own contributions to the whole.